


All Bread Must Die

by A_Dreaming_Jellyfishie



Category: One Piece
Genre: A whole lot of medical lingo because Law’s a doctor., Could be taken as platonic?, M/M, Not Beta Read, Possibly also an asexual romantic relationship?, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:14:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26521978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Dreaming_Jellyfishie/pseuds/A_Dreaming_Jellyfishie
Summary: A soulmate au where Law is never hungry because his soulmate eats enough for them and twenty other people.
Relationships: Monkey D. Luffy/Trafalgar D. Water Law
Comments: 10
Kudos: 225





	All Bread Must Die

The last day of Law’s seventh Golden Week marked the first time Law had ever gotten any signals from his soulmate. Flevance was alive, bursting with life and energy and it swelled and swayed into a hundred streets lined with people, attractions and shops shining against the white pavings of the city. Lami was on one of her better days, where the disease that seemed to plague every person receded and left her with all the cheer in the world. Mother and Father were still working, but Law took it upon himself to brave the outdoors to let his bedridden sister experience the festivities that she always longed for.

Small hand gripping small hand, Law and Lami moved slowly through the centre of the crowd. The former taking good care that he wouldn’t tire out or lose the star-struck girl in all the chaos. Their stomachs growled and the heat and thrum of people was uncomfortable, but bearable for the sunlight smile that plastered itself on Lami’s face.

Law made sure to take some Belli from his Mother before they left in order to get something to eat and allowed Lami to pave the way wherever her stomach led them. That happened to be a fairy floss stand, where there was a gathering of children and their parents gasping in awe as the shop vendor spun multicoloured flowers and fluffy animals with expertise.

It wouldn’t fill Law’s stomach, and probably just end up rotting his teeth, furthering his chance of diabetes... but he wouldn’t mind getting his own fluffy companion, even if he had to eat them in the end.

He gave Lami a short but sure nod and stepped into line. Thankfully, most of the rabble was just watching and not intending to buy and they moved up the queue briskly. Lami, being Lami, immediately asked for a pink rabbit, just like the dozen stuffed toys she possessed at home. (Law wouldn’t admit that he had gifted her half.) Law on the other hand, proceeded with the head of a snow-white bear.

He watched with idle wonder as the candy came to life in the machine. It was interesting but also predictable how the machine worked; through a combination of exothermic heat, centrifugal force, and simple engineering which brought it together. Living beings weren’t quite so basic, which made them far more enjoyable to inspect than machines.

The vendor exchanged the floss for money, leaving Law to tiptoe slightly to reach it. He cursed his short height but thanked the man all the while and made his way with Lami to somewhere quieter.  
But there was a loud scream, and Law flinched dropping his polar bear onto the white paving. Another scuffle and someone shot out of the crowd, trampling the bear and leaving chaos in their wake.

They didn’t even have the gall to apologise.

That’s when he got his first synchro experience. It didn’t quite explode, like the stories said, instead appearing as a creamy sensation spreading across his tongue. It was sweet, but contained an almost soapy, tangy, and artificial twang to it. Milk.

While it wasn’t bread, something to be thankful for, Law couldn’t say that he particularly enjoyed dairy products, especially as they were, more often than not, eaten with bread. Rich foods also weren’t to his liking. He’d take a day-old onigiri over milk any day.

Regardless, it made happiness surge onto his face.

“Onii-sama’s smiling!” Lami gasped in surprise. “But your Fuwa-Fuwa-chan just fell.” Her brow furrowed exaggeratedly. “Doctor?”

He stroked her head lightly. “No. Maybe some sekihan?”

Her confusion deeped. “But I thought we were gonna eat some anyway? It’s Children’s day.”

Law shook his head, “I have a soulmate.”

—

Soulmates were the god’s gifts to humans. Apparently. But Law knew that was as fake as a pile of James Morisson’s medical journals as the “gods” in this case were the Celestial Dragon World Noble. He remembered that one time a Celestial Dragon graced Flevance as a toddler. And while his parents didn’t allow him to go out, he remembered seeing their ugly mug through the telescope in his room. He didn’t even want to try to describe the horrendous sight and never bothered trying again in the twelve subsequent visits from other dignitaries.

Regardless, no one really knew how the connection formed, why it formed, and who it formed for. It… just did.

Of course, there were other legends surrounding soulmates like that western fable where they believed humans originally had four arms, four legs and a head with two faces and were eventually split into two. Or the southern belief that gods made souls in pairs and separated them when they entered the world. There was even this weird one that said something about a devil fruit. Whatever.

There were a lot of those tales, differing slightly from person to person. But none of it had any scientific basis whatsoever. What was certain was that not everyone had a soulmate. Only approximately 30% of the population managed to form a connection and had no genetic basis at all. But those who did have a soulmate shared their taste receptors with one another, or in other words, Person A can taste whatever Person B is eating.

On Flevance, this synchro connection was marvelled and considered blessed. Law wasn’t really sure about the specifics, but allegedly, the birth of the capital Abesto had some links to it. Law didn’t really know, or care. He went to school to be a doctor, not a historian.

And while they’re called soulmates, or fated ones, that didn’t automatically result in a romantic relationship. Hell, sometimes it didn’t even result in a platonic relationship. Generally it just meant that the two people were supposed to be important to each other in some way, shape or form.  
Most connections ended up romantic, by Law couldn’t tell if that was predetermined or some sort of societal placebo effect which brainwashed the individuals into developing civil feelings for one another. The logistics of it still boggled Law. The lack of scientific evidence, or hard and surefire proof stroked a fire of frustration and a need to understand the functionality of it. Law would love to meet his other person if only to study the cause and effect of the synchronisation.

—

The synchro connection wasn’t too bad in the beginning, but Law was getting a little concerned at this point. While he and his parents had celebrated, the taste of milk was practically constant at this point, from dusk to dawn, morning, evening, night. In the middle of the night when Law would accidentally rouse to hear his parents arguing. (Where he pretended that he didn’t know that everyone around him was dying from an illness that no one knew how to cure).

Law knew that his other could very well and truly be anywhere in the world. They could be in another blue, the grandline, or even living on a country part of the red line. The difference in time could explain the odd feeding times.

But not the consistency. That’s what stumped him. No one could eat that much.  
Oh, god, Law hoped that his other wasn’t fat or worse, morbidly obese. While he had nothing against a little chub, the underlying health complications which followed, like diabetes, coronary heart disease, hypertension, dyslipidemia, sleep apnea and a whole list of liver, gallbladder and heart problems, were a no go in his family.

How could you be the best doctor if the one in need of treatment was yourself?  
Other theories included a full gastrectomy, Prader-Willi syndrome, some odd dieting plan (?) and infanthood.

Law was banking on the gastrectomy which would require them to continuously eat small amounts throughout the day, else risk starving themselves. The surgery itself would be absolutely fascinating to watch as their stomach would be carefully, but swiftly extracted from their gut. The careful and precise lining up and connecting of the oesophagus and small intestine-! Law would love to quiz them on their experiences of the aftermath.

He hoped it wasn’t Prader-Willi syndrome, (again, diabetes), but could probably live with it just being a quirk of his other’s diet.

Though none of that told him why milk of all things. Maybe they just liked milk. Whatever. Law couldn’t care as long as they didn’t have an obsession with bread. Ergo, it had to be one of the first three options.

(His other couldn’t be a baby. Ha. That’s stupid, illogical. Everyone knows that while the connection forms at random, both parties have to be at _least_ five before the synchro begins. Law’s other must just really like milk. At least it wasn’t bread.)

—

The baby theory might not be that far off, Law realised, two years later. The constant state of milk had stopped and slowly was mitigated into soups and then solid foods, but nothing a baby couldn’t eat, like honey, seafood and citruses. The mystery of the constant flavours on his mouth had not been solved, but the annoyance regarding it had alleviated as variety in diet began to showcase itself.  
That would mean there would be an approximate 5-7 year gap between him and his other, with Law being the older of the pair. The thought was a bit revolting as kids were gross, and generally very stupid and predictable, but he figured that a decade later, when he was all grown up (if he did manage to live past childhood), it wouldn’t be too bad. His parents were four years apart in age and they lived happily together. Seven wasn’t too far from that.

That train of thought had diminished and died when there was a whole week of nothing but bread. Law had thought of a hundred, million ways to communicate to his other half, that bread was not an option. Methods included using his taste buds like a signal lamp and using morse code to spell out F-U-C-K B-R-E-A-D, scrubbing his tongue with soap, or eating tabasco each time the stale cardboard of bread appeared on his tongue, but he could already tell from the way the other ate that anything less than yelling it in their face would not reach them.

Thankfully, after that week, it seemed that Law’s other decided that they were going to be a carnivorous beast and would very much prefer to eat meat. It was like he somehow got his message.

But Law would never forget the abuse his other put his mouth through. Never.

—

Thoughts of Law’s other seemed to just drift by, like the endlessly white cumulonimbus clouds that meandered above their endlessly white town. The cacophony of flavours began to dull and diminish to a point where even bread’s disgusting attributes seemed to be more tolerant. It was rather like trying to see through frosted glass. Law was fully aware of something within the connection, but the ending sensation resulted in a blurring of sensory nerves, blurring images while still transmitting the light.

When he first noticed, Law would admit he panicked slightly. Soulmate connections were sacred, regardless of the stupid government propaganda. He immediately went on a wild-goose chase for any answers from research papers, doctoral theses, the public library, his parents (though not directly, less they freaked out) and eventually came to the conclusion that nothing could destroy a synchro connection once formed, nothing but death. Obviously, the person on the other end of the line wasn’t dead, if they were still transmitting their food over, therefore Law shrugged it off his tiny shoulders, dusted off his favourite hat, and went back to his favourite pastime of dissecting animals. He was in the mood for a rabbit.

But eventually, this condition proved to be far more detrimental.

It started out small at first. Simple things like refusing extra snacks and leaving his plate far from empty at the dinner table. But it later escalated to skipping out on meals and seemingly living on water alone. Law’s parents, despite their sleepless nights and months of fatigue, noticed the thinness of his arms and the gauntness of his face. Against his will, they dragged him off to the paediatrician. Three weeks of painful conversations with doctor after doctor, referral after referral, and hours of interrogation, they came to a conclusion.

As if Law didn’t already know what was wrong with him. He wasn’t that stupid, honestly. His condition was simply caused by his body constantly producing leptin because his other just wouldn’t stop eating. It like what occurs in obese paitents when their brains became resistant to feeling full. Law’s brain consistently told his body that he was already sated, and therefore he lacked the motivation to eat.  
Which was probably a pretty bad, but pretty good side effect of his synchro connection. Bad news being that he was probably going to end up with anorexia, but good news being that he could study longer rather than waste time eating.

Law kept those thoughts tucked safely within his hat. Judging from his mother’s fretting, voicing them aloud would probably only end up in another endless cycle of people, psychologists this time.

—

At this point in his miserable existence, Law couldn’t care less about psychedelic “soulmate” connections probably fabricated by the World Government to make people mindless sheep. Not when there was blood on his hands and smoke in his lungs and he had become just another corpse laying at the bottom of the pit, surrounded by his people’s still warm bodies. The myriad of food still lingered on his tongue accompanied by a layer of ashes and betrayal, bitter and dry.

He couldn’t remember the last time he really thought about the connection, other than a quick thanks for his loss of appetite which served him well during the genoicide. It was a blessing in disguise that he no longer felt the thrums of hunger—that his body had tricked itself into almost always being sated. Not being desperate for food allowed Law to sit, think and plan for the best way to make them suffer the same way he had suffered. Doflamingo was the best way to do that.  
He had no time for soulmates, not when there was a world to burn.

—

The predetermined mealtimes were probably another blessing in disguise for Law. While he absolutely hated sitting and acting civil with Doflamingo and his party—especially that Corazon bastard—the timely reminders to fill his stomach was much appreciated. Without it, Law would have probably starved himself to death way before the Amber Lead decided his time was up.  
Law still didn’t dwell on the thoughts of his other very often anymore. But their constant need to emphasise their presence with their constant need to eat, fuelled his overactive, detective mind to draw conclusions. And Law was positively sure that they were not from the North Blue.

First of all, Law finally discerned the type of meat they continuously ate; crocodile, when Giolla managed to get some from one of the more southern islands. On a similar trend, majority of the meats, vegetables and grains they ate, were not native to the North, taking on a more tropical flavouring. Furthermore, the style of food they ate was distinctly bland most of the time, as if they simply roasted everything over an open fire, but occasionally, Law could feel the rush of western (or could be eastern) herbs, spices and other condiments. All in all, the chances of Law meeting his other, was little to none and he couldn’t bring himself to care.

(Except he really did.)

—

“Ne, ne!!!! Law-kun! Do you have an _Anamcara_?”

Law shoved Baby 5 out of his personal space so he could not breathe in any air that she was breathing out. She predictably burst into water works, but he ignored her as usual. “I have no idea what nonsense you’re trying to tell me.”

“Y’know!” She bounded back onto her feet like a rubber band, “Your _Anamcara_!”

Instead of clearing anything up, like her tiny, teenage brain thought it was doing, Law only sunk deeper into confusion. Generally, he hated not knowing something, but coming from Baby 5, he was sure he didn’t want to know. He started walking faster.

“H-hey!!! Law!”

“Wait-dasuyan!” Buffalo echoed. “I think Baby 5 means your second tongue!”  
Coming from anyone it would sound disgusting enough, but from Buffalo, Law felt shivers run down his spine with disgust.

“Second tongue????”

“Yes-dasuyan!”

“Is that what you call the Anamcara?” Baby 5 giggled, “I wish I had an Anamcara! It’s sooooooo romantic! Do you have one Buffalo?”

“No, dasuyan, but my second cousin twice removed’s boyfriend’s sister’s classmate does.”

“Woooooooowwwwwwww!!!”

Law could see the other teen swooning with his non-existent eyes on the back of his head.

“Soooooo… Law, do you have an _Amancara_?”

“First of all, use the colloquial term; soulmate. Second of all... Fuck off.” Law growled, hoping that Baby 5 would cease her constant questions. She predictably burst into waterworks.  
“Then…. Tell us your real name-dasuyan!” Buffalo cajoled. “We’ll buy you ice cream?”

Law didn’t really care about the treat, but he stopped. Considered. Then huffed, “Fine.”  
The sickness had spread along, stretching long expanses of pure white along his pale skin. He didn’t have long and once he was dead, keeping his name a secret didn’t matter anyway. “It’s Trafalgar D. Water Law. I’m not really supposed to be telling you guys this—the "D." is supposed to be a secret and Water is my true name—”

“—That’s so boring!”

“Yeah!”  
Law gave them both a scathing glare, relishing in the way Baby 5 burst into tears immediately, “You idiots were the ones who bugged me for i—HEY!!!”

A large, spindly hand snatched Law up by the back of his collar, pulling the material uncomfortably on his neck. He knew how not to suffocate in such a position and was perfectly comfortable being kidnapped—he could probably beat up whoever took him anyway. But it didn’t stop the anger and frustration he felt at the smoke-smelling bastard who grabbed him.

“Corazon! Put me down, you son of a bitch!!”

—

“Law… why don’t you eat?”

Corazon, despite how stupid as he was, lighting himself on fire every minute and tripping on flat ground, wasn’t that stupid. He saw the way that Law would poke at his  
Law turned his shoulders away, murmuring, “I don’t feel hungry.”

“Is this another symptom of your poisoning?!” Arms circled around the younger boy’s midsection and he was hefted over the man’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes, “We’ve got to go to the next hospital as soon as possible!!!!”

“No we don’t!” Law smacked the ditz in the head, “It doesn’t have anything to do with Amber Lead!” He frowned, “Well, not really. Amber Lead is quite like anaemia as the build-up of material in the bloodstream causes inefficiency in oxygen transmissions, leading to fatigue, dizziness, malaise and loss of appetite—but it’s not that.”

He hesitated.

“It’s… well… it’s my soulmate—”

“—SOULMATE?!” Corazon clamoured his large fingers around Law’s shoulders, gripping him tightly, “Y-You have a soulmate!?!??”

“Quit that—it hurts!” Law snarled out, but answered the question nonetheless, “Yeah. I do. A soulmate—fated—whatever.”

Cora-san seemed to be vibrating on the spot, “A soulmate! You have a soulmate!!!! What is it like? What do they like eating? When did it start? Do you guys eat the same thing or do you…”  
Law sighed, preparing himself for listening to Corazon ramble for the next few hours.

—

Cora-san likes talking about soulmates, as it turns out.

It’s one of his most favourite topics right after which-hospital-shall-we-try-to-cure-your-not-at-all-incurable-illness.

But Law still lets him ramble on about how it’s so romantic and beautiful and all those other synonyms of fluffy, rose-glass adjectives that people without soulmates assume having a connection equals. (Which it doesn’t. The world isn’t so black and white.) It’s better than him trying to plan how to get Law banned from all hospitals in the North Blue.

(He really sucks at covert operations for a marine officer.)

Law also preferred the dopey smile on his face than the look of terrible anguish that did not at all match his stupid clown make-up.

—

Soulmates really aren’t on the forefront of his mind when Law’s more than certain that his last sunrise is coming up—or maybe he’s already had it—and he’s going to die shivering in these too, too thin layers with poisonous metal clogging his veins and blood congesting in his throat. Maybe—in a moment of weakness—he can say that the tumbling, whirlwind of flavours on his tongue is comforting—a sign that he hasn’t been abandoned in this dilapidated building.  
He wonders for a moment if they can sense the imminent death through the connection, over the standard taste of roasted meat.

He wonders for a moment if he could somehow apologise to the innocent on the other side of the line, who didn’t deserve to get someone with a death sentence like Law for their other half.  
Law shakes the ideas out of his head, attempting to force his brain to manually disassociate from the thought process of his soulmate. There really wasn’t any point in thinking about it if he was going to die.

Mustering whatever strength he had left, Law pulled himself up from the bed and tumbled himself out the door. His face met the bone-chilling air, sending shivers down his spine. But Law couldn’t bring himself to care.

He was going to sit and wait for death or Cora-san to come.

—

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Law wondered if his fated other could taste the nausea in his throat or feel the bile surging on the tip of his tongue. They certainly would have gotten the salty taste of blood and tears lying in wait under their meal.

—

There are a few times on the sea Law really thinks about his soulmate again. He knows that Cora-san would have wanted him to sail all over the world and find his other half or something equally as cheesy, but Law knows that it’s the sort of lifestyle he wants. Though there were some recent progressions with his other half, such as the time they received a permanent 150% upgrade in food quality but also a substantial increase in… bread intake. There was also that meeting with that uncouth “Big Eater” Jewelry Bonney, which was a disaster Law would love to forget. Especially the moment when she tried to force down her pizza down his throat as if she wasn’t aware that all bread is poison. For a moment, he did wonder if she was the one, being an unstoppable glutton and all. But that singular encounter had rid all thoughts of any civility with the woman. If only they weren’t being chased by Marines, then Law would have stuck her tongue to the small of her back so she wouldn’t be able to taste or talk again.

The rest of his time is dedicated to scheming, studying, surgeries and the occasional nap, which works perfectly for Law, who hates human interaction unless it’s his hands in someone’s guts, preferably with a scalpel and some forceps.

If Cora-san was alive, he would probably be disappointed, but happy that Law was happy, probably. Then maybe try to shove some Umeboshi down his throat in silent protest.

—

Law knew he was gutsy—and still permanently courting death—but he wasn’t sure that he was this level of insane.

He didn’t know why he showed up at Marineford and wasn’t sure why he saved Mugiwara-ya. He wasn’t sure if it was some sort of shared kinship over the initial ‘D’ they both held, divine intervention, or proof that Law needed to sleep more, but Law couldn’t just leave without doing anything.  
It was like there was a magnetic force on his consciousness that kept the surgeon from just departing—there was something deep in his psyche that screamed at him; “You’ll regret this if you just walk away!”

At this point, he wasn’t sure if the iron twang in his mouth was coming from his soulmate or from the gnawing bite on the inside of his cheek from concentration. Strangely enough, Law felt genuinely worried for this… boy’s wellbeing, and it scared him to the bone.

He hadn’t ever felt such a strong connection with… well, anyone since Lami’s death. (Bepo didn’t really count, did he?)

“—ptain!!! His lung is collapsing!!”

“Fuck!” Law needed to concentrate—else this patient was going to die on his table. “Get me a chest tube!”

“Y-yes!!! I’m sorry!”

—

“Ah… This is...” The soup was mellow, smooth and delightful, moving down Law’s throat like warm silk. Foreign, yet familiar. A very jarring experience it was, eating the food he had been tasting for months (before it stopped for two years) and actually _feeling_ it in his digestive system.

“What?!” Mugiwara-ya’s chef growled, looking very defensive, “Is it not good enough for your tastes?”

“No.” Law replied, then hesitated, knowing how abrupt and unfriendly he generally appears. His mind flashes back to his days with Cora-san on the open ocean, and his insistence to be ‘civil’ with his soulmate’s family. “It’s fine.”

If anything, Blackleg-ya looks even more ruffled with that answer, but Law tried and sometimes trying is all one can do. But before he leaves the man to his own devices, he adds;

“I don’t eat bread.”

“Huh?!”

“I don’t eat bread.” Law repeated evenly.

“...any other allergies?” The chef said blankly.

“No. But don’t let Mugiwara-ya eat any more bread.” And Law walked away, leaving the man in his confusion, ignoring the giggles from Nico-ya in the corner, who obviously saw the glaring signs that Law was putting up.

“Toooooooorrrrrrrrrraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaooooooooooooooooo!!!!!” A bouncy, but still substantial mass collided into Law’s side, teetering him to nearly falling over.

“Mugiwara-ya, how many times must I tell you, my name is—”

“—so where are we going next?!” The other captain said with a huge grin, bouncing slightly on the spot with unspent energy, “I wanna kick Mingo’s ass!”

He was obviously ignored again by this insufferable captain, but couldn’t find it in himself to mind too much, except—

“Mugiwara-ya, you’re not allowed to eat bread.” Law blurted out.

“Eh?! Why?!” He whined, “Bread is great!”

Law balled his fist and snared, “All bread must die.”

“Eh???”

The confusion on Mugiwara-ya’s face was clearly evident and Law knew no matter what way he

“Captain.” Nico Robin tapped her captain on the shoulder and bent down to whisper in his ear. His face slowly changed from puzzled, to shock, to a beaming smile.

“You’re my person?!”

“...”

Law neither agreed nor disagreed, rather he let the silence speak for itself. Absently, Law wondered what Mugiwara-ya believed soulmates meant. It varied from individual to individual depending on their cultural beliefs, values and whatnot. Law wouldn’t be surprised if he saw them as a second stomach that lets one eat more without feeling full.

Slowly, the rubbery grip around his waist, tightened, in a slightly suffocating, but still tolerable embrace and Law could taste something salty dip onto his tongue.

Mugiwara-ya was crying.

“I… I have a person?!—You’re my person?”

Perhaps it was a rare occurrence or the whole Straw Hat Crew had some sort of emotional homing beacon on their captain, but everyone was summoned to his side like a Buster Call.

“Luffy!”

“—you alright?”

“—is he dying or something—”

“—Yohohoho—”

“—Law—”

“—if someone makes him cry—”

“—fufufu… castration?”

“—but I have no eyes to cry with!—”

“—are you laughing or crying?!—”

“GUYS!!!!” Mugiwara-ya yelled out, effectively silencing the rabble. But his face was dripping in tears and mucous, “To… TORAO IS MY PERSON!!!!”

“Really?” Nami-ya added, looking justifiably wary at Law, “You’re sure?”

Mugiwara-ya gave a resolute nod and a “Yes!”

“—SUUUUUUPERRRRRRRR—”

“—congratulations!!!”

“—nice—”

“—he better not hurt Luffy—”

“—Zoro, you must be joking, Luffy would kill him first—"

“—does that mean Torao’s the Pirate Queen?—”

“—nah, nah it’s gotta be consort?—”

“—concubine?—”

“—wedding?—”

“—I… I’m not crying damnit!!!”

“—do pirates have weddings?—”

“—TRUE LOVE!—”

Law’s ears ached from the rabble, but he couldn’t deny that something just sat right in his brain.

—

Law isn’t in denial anymore. Throughout his youth the idea of his fated other was a powerful thought that gave him strength through his solitude and always occupied a space in the back of his head.  
He doesn’t think about his soulmate anymore. At least—not in an abstract, faceless concept of a stranger. He has a soulmate, his name is Luffy. They’re allies, but nothing more and nothing less. And Law likes it that way with Mugiwara-ya being an insufferable ball of untamed energy who eats as much as a hoard of elephants on a good day, but has finally, finally agreed that bread is not to be touched—“FUCK!” There was a foul, stale, cardboard texture grating against his tongue like sandpaper. “Who the fuck gave Mugiwara-ya bread?!”

Law cracked his knuckles in anger, fired up his devil-fruit powers and unsheathed Kikoku.

“You have three seconds. To get your ass here.”

All bread must _die_.

**Author's Note:**

> So Imma be honest, I don't know where I was going with this. I just wanted to write a soulmate AU...   
> I hope my English teacher never sees this, else she'll lecture me on using literature for something that "doesn't contribute to society" QAQ. I'm contributing to the AO3 society???
> 
> GLOSSARY   
> Sekihan - glutinous rice steamed with Azuki red beans. Usually eaten inn celebration of something. It’s also usually eaten on Children’s Day, May 5, which happens to be Luffy’s birthday!  
> James Morisson - based on James Morison (1770-1840), one of the most famous, controversial, and successful “quack” doctors in nineteenth-century England was   
> full gastrectomy - a surgery where one removes the stomach from the food tract, meaning that the patient is required to eat small amounts of food over the day.  
> Prader-Willi syndrome - a genetic condition which makes people feel constantly hungry, often leading to obesity and type 2 diabetes  
> Diabetes - a chronic condition which affects the way the body handles sugar, resulting in high blood glucose  
> coronary heart disease - Damage or disease in the heart's major blood vessels generally cause by the build-up of plaque. A common health risk associated with diabetes   
> Hypertension - high blood pressure  
> Dyslipidemia - Abnormally high levels of cholesterol or fats in the blood.  
> sleep apnea - sleeping disorder where the patient repeatedly stops and starts breathing in their sleep  
> leptin - a hormone which regulates hunger. Basically tells your body that you’re not hungry anymore. It’s kinda broken in obese and diabetic people, causing a number of them to eat more because they don’t feel satisfied.   
> Anamcara - soulmate in Celtic   
> anemia - a condition in which the blood doesn't have enough healthy red blood cells
> 
> If you didn't need to search any of this up, you're a real smart cookie! Kudos to you!


End file.
